I rode an Ay-Rab

When you're immersed in the hunter/jumper world, or even dabbling in the eventing world, you tend to look down your nose a bit at the Arabian horse breed. Why? Cuz they move funny. And are flighty. And jump HORRIFICALLY. And they're little. And they're Arabians. Nuff said.

But Sunday I went to the barn to ride a friend's spotted horse (appropriately named SPOT), and she said "here, ride Max, too, while you're here." Max is the Arabian endurance horse she has at the barn right now. He just did a 50 mile ride at Foxcatcher last week. Is going to North Carolina to do 75 miles this week. So I hopped on Max, not expecting much. Because, you know, he's an Arabian. And? He. Is. Way. Cool.

Shocked! Shocked, I was! I kept giggling when I saw my shadow because 1) he is not large, and I am not small and 2) his little Arabian tail was just flipping around in the sky, 12 feet above his back. But seriously. What a cool horse. Smart. Responsive. Doesn't feel like a small horse. Just generally fun fun fun.

And today I am sore. Riding two horses in one day is a lot of work for these out of shape legs.

We enjoyed the summer weather here in Maryland - spread mulch, washed car, waxed car (these are all things JOHN did...), walked on the promenade and got hush puppies at the Promenade Grill, took Dexter for a walk in the billion degree heat. A nice weekend.

And now a little photo story from Dexter:

Damn. All my toys are way down there, and I am stuck in this silly chair. What's a boy to do?
I guess I can play with this wiggly little toy that seems to be attached to my leg.
What? Why you looking at me, Mom? And what was that noise?
Ahhhh. Poop. That's better...

Smooth Operator

Hello, Norman residence. This is Dexter speaking.

No, I'm sorry, we don't want a new car warranty/new phone contract/have anything to donate to purple heart/want to donate to the police even if it's only $30/any of the other plethora of crappy phone calls we get during the course of the day

Ummm. A little help here? I can't answer the phone when I can't see, Mom.

CoCo, this call's for you..

What'd you say, Dex? I didn't hear you. (The joke here is that CoCo is DEAF)
911? HELP! HELP! I'm on my belly and I can't get up!
OMG. I can't even BELIEVE he called. He's soooo not cool.
What??! Natasha and Nadia called! Wheeee! My girls! Quick! Call them back!
Yeah, hi girls! Can you come over to play? I've got cool toys, and I promise I'll share!
The wind blows through CoCo's hair. Oh, wait. There's none left. OK, then. The wind blows through CoCo's ears...
Ridiculously cute.

Eventually, it'll get better...

Ah, the naps. The goddamn naps! Why? Why will this child not sleep for longer than 30 minutes? Why does the sucking of the thumb seem to keep him AWAKE instead of lulling him to sleep? Why do we have a very nice routine to put him to sleep, and he'll fall asleep nicely on his own in his crib, but will wake up after 30 minutes and cannot figure out how to put himself back to sleep? Why? WHY?

John thinks that perhaps I should just accept the fact that Dex is a 30 minute napper, he's a good kid, he doesn't cry (until about the time John gets home from work. Poor John), and he sleeps well at night. So just accept what you have and move on with life. To that I say: what fun is that? What would I DO all day if I wasn't sitting here obsessing over my child's 30 minute napping problem? I'd have to do laundry or clean or something to keep myself occupied. Now I at least have stuff to do - I can google "why doesn't my child sleep for more than 30 minutes GRRRRRR" and see what kind of suggestions pop up. OH the suggestions that pop up! They range from the carry-your-kid-around-and-never-put-him-down types who say that a breastfed baby needs to eat every 3.4 seconds so why should he nap for longer than 30 minutes, to the oodles and oodles of people who say "well, I have no advice for you, but my kid was the same way and I can just say that eventually it DOES GET BETTER!"

Well, you know what, nice people? When you're in the trenches of 30 minute naps and desperately searching for a solution so your poor kid can get some sleep and develop his big old brain so he can become a rocket scientist and support his old Mom and Dad in 30 years... a day feels like a week, and a week feels like a year. So, it'll get better, eh? When? Next century? Truthfully, you can take your "it'll get betters" and stick them where the sun don't shine.

Anyway, on a less bitter-and-obsessive-I-need-to-get-out-of-the-house-more note... Dexter is ridiculously cute, and seriously gets cuter by the second. He's giggling and smiling like mad. We just today discovered the secret to a more happy tummy time (go outside, put him on a hill). He can suck his thumb like it's nobody's business. And his sister is cute, too. And MUCH less stinky. She got her traditional "Mom never brushes me" once a year buzz cut. On a gross and cold miserable Monday. Poor pup. But she is now cute and tiny, and will track in many fewer leaves, so I won't have to vaccuum as much. Which leaves me MUCH more time to google "GRRRRR 30 minutes NAPS!!!"

CoCo sports her summer 'do. And is now perpetually cold.
The big boy sits in a big boy chair. And the Grandpas can fight over which one of them Dexter's bib is about.
Just sittin here, lookin cute, suckin my thumb...

PS - Dexter went to Fair Hill over the weekend to score an endurance ride. And meet some horses, and some of Alissa's friends. And the horses? Didn't phase him one bit. Not sure he even knew they were there, to tell you the truth.

Research

It's been a fairly quiet week in the Norman household. Two days of miserable cold and rain had Dexter and I hunkered down in the house - Dexter obsessively trying to figure out how to suck the thumb right off his hand, and me obsessively trying to figure out why this child won't nap for longer than 45 minutes. I know he CAN do it. Every now and then I get a nice hour and a half nap out of the boy, by doing absolutely nothing different. And he sleeps well at night. So, yes - he CAN do it. So why won't he?

So it's research time in the Norman house. Subject - one 11 week old child who is hella cute. Researcher? One slightly paranoid mother, plus a fuzzy stinky brown dog who tags along when she's awake (which is seldom).

Experiment Number 1 - Leave the right hand free at bed time, to see if Dex could find his thumb and suck on it, thus lulling him back to baby dream-land. So essentially we went from this:

Look, Ma, no hands!

To this:

Just call me the one-armed bandit...

The result? For the first nap of the day, two days in a row, it seemed like a good plan. But for the second nap of the day, Dexter is apparently more flaily (is that a word? I just made it up). And gets a little pissed off when someone keeps poking him in the face when he's sleeping. Never mind that HE is poking HIMSELF in the face. Ummm - that's your eye, buddy. The thumb goes in the mouth. SO - experiment 1 is a failure right now, until the little man gets a bit more control over those appendages.

Experiment 1.5 might be somehow swaddling him in such a way that his thumb sticks out, but his elbow is still swaddled, thus giving him thumb access but no flaily arms. But the researcher has yet to figure out an effective way to do this...

Experiment Number 2 - the boy is huge and hungry, so feed his butt some more. Thus far? The result has been a ridiculously sore right nipple for Mom, and zero change in length of sleep for the child. I didn't think it was the issue, anyway, as Dexter wakes up after 45 minutes and happily talks to himself in his crib for as long as I leave him there. He doesn't wake up with his "OMG, I am starving, why aren't you feeding me NOW" cry.

HOWEVER - the researcher may change her feeding strategy, anyway, after realizing that her linebacker of a son will eat anything that is put in front of him and then some. Now that my milk supply seems to have evened out a bit, I will try going back to feeding him from both boobs, instead of having him rip off the nipple on one side, trying to get every last little drop out of there. Because, well, OWWWW.

Next in the line of tricks up the sleeve? Some random thing called "Wake to Sleep." Which essentially is going in before 45 minutes, gently waking him up a tiny bit, and letting him fall back to sleep. Supposedly making him sleep forever and ever and ever, amen. That's on the schedule for Sunday. We're busy today and tomorrow. Got grand plans. Big adventures! Also known as - going to Fair Hill to do the scoring and results for the endurance ride that I used to manage. Gotta show off the Baaaay-beeeeee. Crossing my fingers and hoping he sleeps a little bit in the camper we have supplied to us for scoring.

Happy Friday!

I May Have Created a Monster

For ten weeks I've been hoping that Dexter would find his thumb, suck his thumb, not want to suck my nipple off because, LOOK! I have a THUMB! That I can control! And, oh sweet day, I think that time has come. He started sucking a little bit on his own on Saturday. Sunday afternoon there was a stint of consistent sucking. And today? Once he remembers that his thumb is still attached to his hand, I can't get the damn thing out of his mouth. So our play time goes a bit like this:

Want to play with your gym, Dex? Nah, thanks, Mom. I've got this cool thumb to suck on.

Want to smile at Mom, Dex? Sure, Mom. I'll smile at you as long as I can keep this here thumb in my mouth.

Want to read, Dex? Sure, Mom. Can I suck on this thumb while you read to me?

Want to sit in your Bumbo chair and play with a cool stuffed animal, Dex? Well, Mom, I'll happily sit here and suck on my thumb. I kind of forget about that left hand over there. Is it still attached to me? I'm a little more worried about this right hand firmly implanted in my mouth. But, hey. Check it out! I can still POOP while sucking my thumb!

So, when this thumb sucking gets a little more reliable (like Dex remembers he has a thumb when he wakes up crying) I'll try leaving his sucking hand unswaddled and see if a little thumb sucking might make the child nap longer than 45 minutes. Cuz Mom? She needs a stinkin NAP.

OH!! Also?? Three mornings in a row of sleeping from 10pm until at least 5:45 am! SWEET!

The Cowan paparrazzi joined us for the weekend to celebrate Easter, with oodles of food, pictures, and chocolate. I am somehow full and starving all at the same time. I do believe I stretched out my stomach. And I also need to get my butt to Target ASAP to cash in on 50% off Cadbury Cream Eggs!

Woo-hoo! I have a thumb! I haven't quite figured out that I can bring my hand up to my mouth instead of dropping my head down to my thumb.
I like spitting up on Grandpa. Baby spit-up is his favorite!
Grandma and Grandpa tried like mad to get me to smile. Did I ever? Of course not! There was a camera in the room. I don't smile when there's cameras in the room! Lemme see if I can stuff this red ring in my mouth at the same time as my thumb...
Grandma and I wait for my photo session at Sears. Photos didn't turn out spectacular, but I was a good boy at the mall. And Mom was seriously happy we went to get our Easter Bunny picture last week, because the line on Saturday was a million miles long.
The Cowans look cute after Easter brunch
Thanks, Easter Bunny. BAWK BAWK!

P.S.

After that last melancholy post I went to get Dexter from his nap and brought him downstairs to eat. I put him down for a second, and he looked up and gave me a big old gummy grin.

And all was right with the world.

Click? ish...

Every time I want to write a post saying "CLICK! We finally have it! I've figured out this whole baby thing!", stuff happens. My nipple, which felt pretty good for a few days, is suddenly being eaten off again. My other breast isn't pumping as much milk, leaving me to worry about why. Why is the right side so stellar at milk production but hurts like hell, and the left side is finally kind of feeling ok, but sucks at giving up the milk? The baby, who slept til 6 yesterday morning, woke up at 4 this morning. The baby, who rarely cries when going down for naps, cried this afternoon. The last nap of the day, for which we have been using the swing, will undoubtedly just go terribly in the near future, simply because it can. And I am just waiting for bottle feeding to blow up in my face, keeping me hostage at home. Or for Dexter to decide that he loves bottles more than the real thing. And then we'll have to buy formula. Which is expensive. Or I'll have to pump all the time. Which is annoying.

And then I think that perhaps I should go be a productive member of society. Go back to work. But will there still be a job for me? Maryland racing is going to the crapper. Someone may buy the tracks and turn them in to malls. The state is trying to take over the tracks to "save racing." But a state-run track sounds like a disaster. One of these days they are going to realize that the people who are currently doing my job at work are perfectly capable of doing it without me there. And why do I need to be a productive member of society, anyway? I am doing fine being at home, driving aimlessly around town, hitting every drive-through we can find, to keep the baby sleeping for a while in the car. Today we visited my old barn, and drove through Ripkin Stadium and Susquehannah State Park. Just killing time. And thinking. One should not be allowed to think quite so much, I think.

And then I come home and think some more, instead of actually DOING stuff, like cleaning the house for the company who is arriving tomorrow. And I write blog posts instead of cleaning the bathroom. And I think "gee, a nap would be nice, but there's only 25 minutes til Dex wakes up again and really, what's the point of trying to nap for such a short period of time?" And there's a huge long list on the board of stuff I really SHOULD be doing, but instead I do, well... not a lot. What do I DO all day? Besides keep a kid alive? Is that enough? Is it enough that I do a couple loads of laundry, cook dinner, and then drink some irish cream and watch America's Next Top Model in the evenings? Do I hang out with my husband enough? Do I walk the dog enough? Perhaps I could do something super crazy like, I dunno. Dust? Vaccuum? Clean the bathroom? Clean the spit-up off the chair? Am I doing enough for my child? Should I be teaching him more? Playing with him more? Talking to him more? Sign language? Sending him to college classes already? Shouldn't I get my ass off the couch and do some damn sit-ups so I could perhaps not be so fat? Shouldn't I go to the gym in the evenings instead of drinking irish cream and looking for something to watch on the TV? They have TV at the gym, too.

Shouldn't this baby be sleeping for longer periods of time? Why are you not sleeping, child? It is, at least, the good nipple's turn this feeding. Hooray!

Happy Easter, Bawk Bawk and all that fun stuff. The paparazzi is coming to town this weekend, so soon there shall be some more cute pictures of Dexter. I think today I have nothing. Sorry. Oh, wait. Maybe a picture that John took while he was home with Dexter last Saturday. Here you go.

To Hell With Spring, Part 2

To hell with spring, we'll just go back to winter... Yesterday when I was at work I looked out the window to see snow flurries. SNOW! Dude - it's APRIL!! And then this morning when I was washing my hands after pumping breast milk at 6:30 AM, I looked out the window again and told John - "Hey, look! It's snowing!" He didn't believe me til he looked for himself. The he said that schools must be closing today, because of the snow. Already happened. Spring Break. See, snow? SPRING Break! What gives?

Whoa, whoa, wait, Alissa. Back up a second. Did you just say you were at WORK? Yeah. I was. But not really at work, working. Just at work to visit and play "Pass the Baby" with the ladies in the office. We were there for a pretty long time, though. Dex was a champ. He smiled at all the ladies, sat at the board room table for lunch, and didn't start screaming til about the time we left work and headed for the car. He wanted to stay longer! So, no. I am not working yet. Not til summer.

And wait, again, Alissa. 6:30 this morning? Why were you up at 6:30? Dexter doesn't get up til 7, right? Ah, you're right. But this morning Dexter slept all the way through the night, not waking until 6:00. Woo-hoo! It happened on Friday morning last week, too. So - we're getting super close to sleeping through the night. I feed him at 10pm, and he usually only sleeps until about 4am. But we're getting it - 6am! Yay!

So, Alissa, does that mean that YOU slept through the night, too? Ah, but of course not. You know me better than that. I woke up at 3 when Dex woke up briefly to squirm a little and then to poop (yes, you can hear that from the other room, even without the baby monitor turned on). I woke up at 4, when Dex usually wakes up. I woke up at 5 - hmmmm, wonder when the baby is going to wake up? And I woke up at 6 when John got up to go to work and Dexter started stirring again. So yeah. No. I didn't sleep as well as Dexter did.

So it's time to prepare for the day, which will include a visit to the Red Army. Nadia was apparently inconsolable last night, screaming about how she wants a baby brother AND a baby sister. Funny thing is that she DOES have a baby sister. I mean, she's 4. But she's still Nadia's baby sister. So we'll go be the substitute baby brother for a little while. That child. She cracks me right up. Last week we went to visit and she said "I LOVE your baby, Alissa. Can I HAVE you baby?" Not yet, Nadia. Sorry babe. I'm not ready to give him up just yet. Ask me next week...

We took advantage of the nice weather on Sunday to go for a walk on the boardwalk in town. And, of course, to stop by Bomboy's for some ice cream and some chocolate!

To hell with Spring...

Let's just move right on to summer! We are having the weirdest weather today. Thunderstorms! In the beginning of April! So bizarre.

Random thought Friday.

Am I warping my child's brain if I read to him from People Magazine? How about Playboy? I swear I only read it for the articles... It's all we have laying around the house, and I kill two birds with one stone that way. Although Dexter has a hard time making it through more than a couple pages at a time. Reading makes him sleepy. Me, too, buddy. Me, too.

Is it weird that I spent more time today filing my son's nails than I have EVER spent on mine?

How come baby spit-up and baby poop don't bother me even a little bit?

I think Dexter is finally starting to hear and take notice of his surroundings. Loud noises startle him and make him cry a lot. Is that normal? He was just crying a little in his crib, and I went upstairs and walked in to his room talking in my normal voice. Which brought a SHRIEK from the little boy. Am I really that scary? He screamed at the dinner table the other day, too, when John was talking. John does talk loud, though. We might have to visit the Red Army more often - get him used to loudness!

I find it odd that I am cooking now. And actually enjoying it. And planning ahead! Making a menu for the week! Doing efficient shopping at Wal-Mart! John is loving life, although he says I am killing his diet.

So the new swaddle blanket I got for Dexter, to use when company is here and putting him to bed (because his Miracle Blanket is difficult to just figure out)? Sucks a big one. Useless. Piece of poo. Anyone need a crap-tastic swaddle blanket?

If Dexter EVER figures out how to suck his thumb (please lord, soon!) is that when I stop swaddling him? Or at least leave his thumb-sucking hand un-swaddled so he can suck it at will?

I amaze even myself with the number of classical songs I can whistle along with on the Classical Pops station on XM. I haven't heard many of these songs in 15 or 20 years. But they come right back to ya. Must be like riding a bike. Thanks, Mom, for playing awesome music when I was a kid and giving me an appreciation for it. I am really enjoying it now! The TV is almost never on during the day. Just classical pops. And right on cue, what comes on the radio? Scheherazade! One of my favorites, along with the 1812 Overature.

I still don't get the appeal of Facebook. I'm on there, but I don't get it.

One of these days I am going to have to decide what I want to be when I grow up...

John was ecstatic when I told him that Dexter had his hands fisted up, with his thumbs OUTSIDE his fists, the other day. Hooray, he says! Perhaps Dexter didn't inherit his mom's retarded thumb genes after all!

Is showing a 2 month old cute bare bottom photo on my blog considered kiddie porn?

Happy Friday!!

Spring is in the air

It's finally spring! As seen in this photo:
No? Can't tell it's spring? I thought that cute babies are born in the spring? That's the way it is with horses, at least. Dexter's got a good birthday. Early in the year, so when his two-year-old racing career starts he'll be bigger and stronger than the other two-year-olds born later in the year.

Dex doesn't need an early birthday to be bigger and stronger than other kids, really. At his two month check-up yesterday he was 24 1/2 inches long (90th percentile) and 13 pounds even (80th percentile). Yeah, I know - just last week he was 12 lbs 1 oz at lactation group. I don't think the boy gained almost a pound in five days. We'll blame it on different scales, plus they weigh him with clothes and a dirty diaper at the doctor's office.

I found out, also, what Dexter's "OUCH THAT HURTS!" cry sounds like. Poor kid screamed through his shots. That's not a cry I want to hear often. I don't know how those pediatric nurses get through the day. Sure, you get to see cute kids all day. But you also have to suck blood from them and shoot them up and do all kinds of things that make them cry. Not a job I'd want to have to do.

The doctors gave me an owie on my right leg... :-(

But we made it through the visit with no serious ill effects, other than a swollen red spot at one injection site. No fever. Not too cranky a baby. Actually, a SLEEPY baby, which is cool. I got to take a nap!

AND! It's SPRING! NOW as seen in the below photos, with a cute baby sitting in front of flowers that I don't know the name of. Hey - I don't garden. If flowers come up, I say "oooh, pretty!" and try to keep John from pulling them up (he keeps telling me he thinks they are weeds...).

The little white flowers ARE weeds, I think. But don't tell John...
Fun now when the baby will actually look at your hand, waving frantically over the camera. Gives the picture the impression that Dexter actually gives a damn that his picture is being taken.
We have a new-found appreciation for mirrors